


Couple's Therapy: Part 3

by altogether_strange



Series: Couple's Therapy [3]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Bondage, Foot Fetish, Kinky, Multi, Original Character(s), Original Female Character(s) - Freeform, Original Male Character(s) - Freeform, POV Third Person Omniscient, Tickle torture, Tickling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-11
Updated: 2019-07-11
Packaged: 2020-06-26 03:54:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19760080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/altogether_strange/pseuds/altogether_strange
Summary: They had no idea how to define what it was they were about to do. Devin defined it as "tickle torture," and Chris honed in on the "torture" aspect of it. V even joked once that it was "couple's therapy."





	Couple's Therapy: Part 3

**Author's Note:**

> It's honestly shameful how long I took to post this. I'm not at all satisfied with the ending but I couldn't manage to overcome my sexual writer's block. I've got hardly any sex drive right now because I'm depressed. I have no motivation to write nor do I enjoy it like I used to. Everything fucking sucks right now and I'd much rather carve words into my flesh than write them down and turn them into a story. I sincerely apologize for this sorry excuse for a final installment of this series. Maybe when I get my mojo back I'll rewrite it and make it worth your while. But I want to post what I have now because it's eating at me every day I continue to ignore it. People actually liked the first two chapters and someone even said they were excited for this part. I feel like I've let that person down with the shit I managed to get off my sorry ass and write. Once again, if anyone even bothers to read this, you have my sincerest apologies.

Chris’s heart hammered in his chest as he fixated his gaze on the ceiling. He felt his ears burning and his inexplicable apprehension embarrassed him. What could he possibly be afraid of? The only intimidating thing about his current predicament was the conniving look shared by his partners. Or perhaps the fact that he was rendered immobile by means of physical restraint, leaving him completely at their mercy.  
The air in the room suddenly felt cool against his burning skin. He felt as though the blush on his face had consumed his entire body.  
As the sole dominant in the relationship, he was used to presiding over the sexual acts the three of them engaged in. Never once had he surrendered his position of power and in turn submitted to the will of his significant others. He felt at once insecure and pusillanimous and found himself tugging at his bonds in a display of anxiety. He didn’t know how to be a sub. He wasn’t turned on by feelings of helplessness or subjugation, and certainly not the tantalizing creeping of Devin’s nails down his biceps.  
“Fuck…” He whispered as she took her time dragging her nails back up the length of his arms.  
He tensed his arms and shut his eyes as a smile wormed its way onto his face.  
“I’m not looking,” he stated, the smile broadening into a humored grin, “if I can’t see it, it’s not happening.”  
“Oh, I don’t know about that.” V sneered, and even with his eyes closed Chris could imagine the smirk on his face. Devin was teasing the hairline of his underarms with her nails and it was getting harder for him to suppress his laughter.  
Christ, it was only her touching him (and barely, at that) and he could hardly stand it. There was an entire other person in the room with the intent of tickling him senseless. He felt a pang of fear in his chest. This little “couple’s therapy” session would be the death of him.  
As if on cue, V spoke up.  
“Come on, let’s get some volume outta you.”  
Without warning he dug his fingers into his boyfriend’s ribcage and assaulted the tender bones with vicious speed. A yelp escaped Chris’s throat and opened the floodgates for the laughter he had been persistently subduing. It was panicked and of a significantly higher pitch than his natural speaking voice, and the sound of it deepened the embarrassed shade of red on his cheeks.  
“ _There_ it is.” V said with a quiet air of triumph, dragging out the word.  
“That’s a universal tickle spot,” Devin remarked with a devious smile. “Kinda like this one.”  
She promptly launched her own attack on the hollows of his underarms, prominently pale in comparison to the tattooed skin of his biceps and even more sensitive.  
There was a reason they called this “tickle ‘torture.’” The latter of the two words precisely defined this experience. The incessant assault on his nerve endings drove him crazy. His laughter was panicked. What was it about this that Devin enjoyed so much?  
V’s hands traveled maddeningly slowly down Chris’s torso as he took his time making sure that not a single potentially sensitive morsel of skin went untouched. He stroked his blunt nails leisurely up and down Chris’s sides, and this motion taught the reluctant ticklee to hate knismesis. Devin’s torturous nails continued down his body, molesting his nipples and pecs with their teasing touch.  
Chris wracked his brain to find something about this that he enjoyed. His skin, which was developing a sheen of sweat from his exertion, sizzled with residual sensitivity. It ached where the restraints dug in, neutralizing his attempts to remove himself from the table and this situation altogether. He tried to remember why he had agreed to this in the first place. He jumped at the opportunity to assert his dominance over his partners while they were restrained, his in his eagerness he was blinded to the prospect of taking their place.  
They let up and gave him a moment to breathe, which he accepted gratefully. It was obvious that they were enjoying themselves. Try as he might, Chris couldn’t find the strength to be mad at them. He held no contempt for them, only the experience. Being tortured with his own uncontrollable sensitivity. He had no idea the extent of his own reactivity. He was sure he was at least mildly ticklish, everyone was. The human body was naturally sensitive in certain areas because of varying quantities of nerve endings. But he was more susceptible to this torturous touch than he had anticipated. He yearned for this ordeal to end.  
Suddenly V was beside him. He bent to whisper in his ear. The seduction in his voice was overshadowed by the arrogance of his words.  
“Do you need a safe word?”  
Chris scoffed. The sound was carried by a cough that escaped his throat as he fought to catch his breath.  
“Watch yourself.” He warned his boyfriend.  
The tickling began again almost as soon as it had ceased. Devin teased the skin of his inner thighs with the points of her nails, touching so lightly but creating such a fervid feeling. Chris squirmed despite the restraints, angling his head up and closing his eyes, providing further evidence that his previous argument of not seeing it equating to it not happening was entirely false.  
“Stop…” he whined pitifully between the few giggles that escaped his clenched teeth.  
“Oh, but you’re so cute…” Devin countered with a grin.  
“Yeah,” V agreed, prodding at his midsection, “I’m really liking this role reversal, here. Having you completely at my mercy…” His voice dropped into a sensual murmur.  
Chris groaned. The noise was soon lost to the stream of agitated giggles emitting from his tightly closed lips at random intervals.  
“Hey, didn’t you use to have a piercing here?” V asked impishly, being purposefully vague.  
Chris looked up at him expectantly, a smile fighting for dominance against his distressed expression.  
“Where?”  
“Right _here_!” He plunged the tip of his index finger into his navel and Chris let out a pitiful cry that dissipated into uncomfortable laughter. He tried saying “no” multiple times but each dissipated into giggles before becoming a comprehensible exclamation.  
He had once had a piercing similar to Devin’s captive bead ring, and wished now that he could go back in time and prevent himself from ever making that decision if only to preclude this particular moment of torment.  
“Oh my goodness,” Devin chuckled, her teasing tone of voice conveying satisfaction at this newfound discovery. “My turn next!”  
V granted her access and she began circling the spot with the tip of her fingernail, slowly but surely closing in on the notch of skin.  
Chris bit into his lower lip, shaking his head. The feeling of her pointed nail in the crevice of space was exceedingly worse than what he had experienced before. He futilely attempted to arch his back to quell the ticklish feeling, but found it only heightened the sensation.  
He felt her remove her finger and opened his eyes to see her beside him. He watched as she lowered her head and pressed her lips against the skin of his stomach, placing a kiss onto his navel. It was all well and good until she stuck her tongue into the tight space and teased the sensitive skin with the tip of her tongue in short, rapid movements.  
Chris gasped a little, sucking his stomach in to escape the feeling, to no avail. The convulsing of his diaphragm with each stifled chuckle also did nothing to alleviate the sensitivity.  
“You’re kinky.” V commented with a smirk. She straightened and winked at him in response. She then met Chris’s half-lidded eyes and giggled when he whispered to her,  
“Dirty little girl.”  
She bowed to kiss him and remained mere inches from his face after they parted.  
“You know,” he muttered to her, “everything you do to me is an invitation for me to do to you.”  
She stood up quickly, a look of devious excitement on her face.  
“Oh?” She said, never breaking eye contact as she receded to the end the table, “is that so?”  
It wasn’t until he felt a single finger stroke swiftly up his sole that Chris realized V had positioned himself at the end of the table as well.  
“Shit—“ he choked out. “I take it back.” Devin smirked as she met V on the other side of the table.  
“Too late.”  
V immediately took to scrabbling the fingers of both hands against the sole and ball of his left foot, having an inclination for provoking a precipitate reaction from him. Devin took a more patient approach, stroking the length of his right sole with four fingers. She positioned both hands on either side of his heel and crept her fingers oh so slowly up his arch and the lateral edge of his foot. The latter was particularly sensitive to her touch, and smirked a little when she noticed how he pulled away.  
“Right here?” She murmured in a teasing tone that denoted that the only response she desired from him was his hitherto occurring laughter.  
She held his foot in one hand, with his arch in the palm of her hand and her fingers wrapped around his instep. With her free hand she trailed the nails of two fingers up and down the extent of skin at a lazy pace.  
The combination of the contrasting sensations of Devin and V’s tickling strategies antagonized his nerve endings in an overwhelming experience that publicized the magnitude of his sensitivity.  
He stretched his feet forward, curling his toes and testing the limits of the ankle restraints, desperate for a tactile distraction.  
What little movement he could manage under the constraint of his bondage did nothing to inhibit the molestation of his newfound sensitivity. This was his worst tickle spot and he wasn’t the only one who knew it.  
His soles were discovered to be the most sensitive, and thus they were given the most attention. V’s fingers moved at a rapid pace, making quick work of exploring the delicate skin of Chris’s size thirteens. His fleeting movements left the skin tingling and tender, rendering it more susceptible to the ticklish onslaught brought upon by his boyfriend’s short nails.  
Devin continued to hold his foot in her left hand, and with the heel of her right hand she held back his toes, stretching and exposing the skin of the ball of his foot.  
“You know,” she said to V in a low tone, an expression of deviance overcoming her face, “the best way to tickle a spot like this is to use your teeth.”  
“Oh yeah?” V asked, equally as smug. Without ceasing the movement of his hands, he cast a quick glance in her direction, curious as to her intentions.  
Dev closed her eyes and leaned in closer, opening her mouth and parting her lips as she positioned her teeth gingerly on the top and bottom curves of the ball of Chris’s foot and began opening and nearly closing her mouth, nibbling at the taut skin. The modulation of Chris’s voice peaked and his once breathless, whining laughter cloaked itself in desperation.  
“Stop!” He managed to cry out, his tone of voice raw and exhausted. “Stop,” he said again, “I’m done. I’m fucking…” He sucked in a breath and released it uneasily. “Done. No more.”  
Coughs escaped his exerted throat, mingled with fatigued laughter.  
“Please.” He uttered huskily, and the torture was halted. They assumed anticipatory positions on either side of the table.  
“You want outta the restraints, baby?” Dev asked serenely, blanketing the room in quietude. Chris nodded, continuing to catch his breath, and within minutes he was unfettered.  
V extended a hand and helped pull him into a sitting position. Devin stroked a section of his shoulder-length black hair behind his ear and rested her chin on his shoulder, whispering into his ear with a playful kind of inquisition.  
“Did you have fun?”  
“No.” Chris replied instantly.  
Devin pouted. She walked two fingers across his collarbone as she murmured into his ear again.  
“Don’t like switching roles?” She asked, “don’t like being taken advantage of—?”  
Her second query was interrupted by Chris’s sudden movement. He turned to face her and gripped her face in his hand, pressing his fingers into her neck just beneath the points of her jawbone.  
“You better watch what you say around me, little girl.” He growled. “You can’t expect to _take advantage_ of me like that without consequences.”  
He felt her swallow against the tips of his fingers. The action was fraught but he could see no trace of consternation in her eyes. She coveted whatever punishment was in store for her.  
He turned his attention to V and relinquished his grip on his girlfriend’s throat ever so slowly.  
“Don’t think you’re off the hook, either.”


End file.
